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Friend Wetter

One day during my freshman year of high school Elizabeth and I took a walk to Stop and Shop. We'd often go there and to browse, read magazines or buy candy. Ya know - the stuff you do to get out of the house and pass time before you have a car.

We walked through the aisles of the local grocery chain reading greeting cards and perusing paperback books. I made my way down the candle and gift aisle when I stumbled upon a box with a button on a display shelf. Naturally, I pressed the button.

“HEY LINDA! IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY,” a clown-like character voice bellowed loudly, as Elizabeth rounded the corner.

Embarrassed, I looked up at her as the voice continued to sing.


As we frantically looked around to see who was staring at this boisterous outburst of a birthday greeting, Elizabeth's face gradually turned red and I sank to the ground overcome with laughter. I pictured the scene as a third person: her obvious humiliation next to my hysterical reaction and I got a case of the giggles that took this embarrassing incident to a new level. It was just too much to handle and I lost control of my muscles and collapsed into a seated position on the linoleum floor. My cousin's face contorted in horror which caused me to loose control of my bladder and begin to wet my pants.

"I'm peeing!" I announced through uncontrollable laughter, as if the admission would somehow absolve me of embarrassment.

Well, that did it for Elizabeth. She took that as her cue to turn and high tail it to the exit, her head hung in shame. Oh no! I thought, I can't pee on the floor alone! I need someone with me to cushion the humiliation. Surprisingly, I was able to stop the dribble of urine, push myself up and run out of the store after her. Still laughing, I caught up to my cousin on the sidewalk.

"That was hilarious!" I exclaimed! "I've got to show that to Erica!"

"Did you really pee your pants?" she asked judgmentally.

"... A little," I replied.

Geez, I thought defensively. Who cares? I didn't pee your pants!


I swear. Pee your pants once and you're one hundred percent likely to pee them again. A week later Erica and I went sledding at the Elk's Club. We were the only people there, so we slid down the hill on my flying saucer and cheap magic carpet sled for a few rounds, until two cute boys appeared with an inner tube and toboggan.

"Hi!" we singsong flirted to them.

"Hey," they dismissively replied.

They didn't seem interested in socializing, so we enjoyed the snow in our separate groups for a few minutes, until I became fascinated by their inner tube. They were soaring down the hill on that thing, whereas my stupid roll out piece of plastic kept getting stuck in the snow.

"Hey, can we try your inner tube?" I brazenly asked.

"Uh, I guess," the cuter of the two reluctantly replied.

I took the tube from him, admiring myself for being so bold. "Erica, let's both sit on the sides with our feet in the middle and go down together!" I said to my hilarious best friend.

Easier said than done, as it turned out. We started standing with our feet in the center of the donut, then attempted to sit on the air filled tube, gripping the two handles on the sides. But Erica's butt immediately slid off, her legs still stuck in the center, and gravity began pulling us down the hill, Erica's butt first!

"Oh no!" I laughed, as it became clear we were going to descend the hill this way, with Erica's butt hanging out and dragging us down.

She began to crack up, a face-scrunching, high pitched belly giggle, as I gripped the handles to stay on. I pictured my panicked expression as I watched Erica's glee and exploded in laughter at the juxtaposition of our reactions. As we lost control of our laughter we began to gain speed, and soon I would loose control of my body as well. Midway down this giant hill, just as we passed the two cute boys ascending, my butt fell off my side of the tube as well! So, there we were, two girls being pulled down a giant hill by the weight of our butts, with our feet caught in the center of a giant donut. Naturally, I began to urinate.

"I'm peeing!" I loudly confessed to Erica, through uncontrollable laughter.

This admission of course made Erica laugh even harder, which made me laugh even harder, which pushed my pee out faster. The two boys stopped walking and watched the trail of yellow I left behind their sled. Oh no, I thought. Visual evidence. Now I'm embarrassed. Unable to stop ourselves from being dragged down the rest of the hill, and too far along in my stream to stop it, I just gave in and let gravity and nature have its way with me the rest of the ride. We finally came to a stop at the bottom of the slope, our laughter subsiding. I looked to the apex. The two boys looked down at, and on, us. It was a geographically fitting metaphor for how I felt. And yet, I didn't care. The joy far outweighed the shame.


A month later Erica and I were at my parent's house. My dad was on the road with a show and my mother was God knows where, so Erica and I went over to “babysit” Sibby. By “babysit” I mean we went over there to cavort unsupervised, erstwhile annoying my nine year old sister. At some point Erica looked at Schuylar, our dachshund, which caused him to pee on the rug, which made us laugh hysterically, which pissed off Sibby who was avoiding us by hiding in her room.

"GODAMN IT! STOP LAUGHING!" we heard her angry pre-pubescent voice bellow from the top of the stairs, as an empty laundry basket came flying down them.

Well, this overreaction was just too much for Erica to handle, and she burst into uncontrollable laughter and sank to the floor. As history had proven by that point, when Erica laughs I loose it, so I too sank to the floor where I lost control of my bladder and soiled the rug as Schuylar had just done.


A few weeks later Erica was spending the night at Gumma's. We sat in the lazy boy recliner in the kitchen, me half on her lap because the chair was meant for one. We ate pumpkin pie out of the tin, while talking to our friend Athena on the phone.

"Let's start on this piece," I said to Erica, as she talked to Athena.

"No," she said, interrupting her conversation mid sentence to pointlessly argue with me. "I wanna start on this piece!"

Well, that was enough for me. By that time I should've resigned to Depends-wearing when Erica came over, because I was more than likely going to pee my pants. And so I did. Not even trying to stop it.

"Ahhhh!" Erica screamed when she felt the warm liquid on her leg.

She pushed me off her and I fell onto the throw rug where I finished my business. Just then Gumma walked into the room.

"I peed on the rug!" I confessed, convinced she would see the humor in the situation. But Gumma was not amused.

"Ohhhhh," she shamed me, shaking her head in disapproval.

"It's Erica's fault!" I immediately justified. "She made me laugh!"

My bladder control issues quickly became an inside joke between me and my BFF. That year for Christmas Erica got me a throw rug and a package of Depends. Though I somehow managed to hold it from then on, there were multiple occasions with Erica where I almost peed. Just like Schuylar, Erica remains the one person who can make me pee just by looking at her.


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